The Early Years

I think my very first recollection was on the occasion of my younger sister Pat’s christening. The ceremony was held at St. Albans Abbey in Hertfordshire. Both Pat and myself were born in the town. I would have been about two and a half years old at the time and the year would have been 1937. As the ceremony progressed, the vicar was about to anoint my sister’s head with the holy water when she began to cry. I clearly remember being overcome with a range of emotions. Anger, because he had made her cry. Fear, because he might hurt her and frustration because I could do nothing to stop it. I made such a fuss and commotion that I was quickly bundled out of the church. This did nothing to pacify me, as now my imagination took over, and a great dread washed over me. Peace was not restored until I was later reunited with my sister. As we grew older, nothing in the world would have made me confess these feelings to my sister.